Early this morning... I was seriously chucking things up to God, left and right. Haha! I can only imagine what one would think if my thoughts were spewed out of my mouth onto paper; if my prayers were like love letters to God and they were found years later in an attic somewhere by some sixteen year old best friends. No question, they would laugh at the lashing out, the jumbled mess of infantile sentences and rationalities.
I don't care though. I don't. Because God thinks much more of my desires than of the words in which they are expressed. It may be natural for a scholar to consider the accuracy of my terms, but God especially notes the sincerity of people's souls, mine included. There really is no place where the heart should be so free as before the mercy seat.
And from our prayers, come blessings. The one who sowed these automatic seeds in our hard hearts in the first place, the one who watches us cracking up and breaking down, the one who gently gives us the questions and waits and watches while we learn to pray, that same God steps in to bless. To Him, our thoughts and desires are like splashes of vibrant color in a sea of endless black and white. They are beautiful.
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